


masquerade

by Darth Occlus (NotSummer)



Series: deliverance [7]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, Dancing, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Feelings Realization, Idiots in Love, Kissing, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship, Undercover Missions, alright one of them is an idiot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 11:56:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15072638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotSummer/pseuds/Darth%20Occlus
Summary: “It’s the mission, right? We’ll play our parts.” Miyala looked down, brushing her hands down her dress. She felt beautiful, like something delicate and lovely. It was an odd feeling. She was Jedi and thus beautiful and delicate were not something she was.He nodded, his eyes far away, and then backed up, stepping away from her and shoving his hands into his pockets, his shoulders slouching forward as he looked stiff and awkward. She followed, wrapping her fingers around his lower bicep. “You know, if you can’t stand near me, they’ll know we’re not who we say we are.”He went tense as she wrapped her fingers around him, and then relaxed, taking another step towards her, cautiously putting his other hand on her waist. “Right,” he said, exhaling heavily, “Newlyweds with money and Seppie connections.”~~~Rewritten version ofsweet dreams are made of this





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Rewrote the original fic and added a middle part.

Miyala grimaced as she tried to get the flimsy headpiece into place. The tiny golden threads wrapped around her earcones and her lekku, and it was far softer than anything she usually wore. Jesse stepped up behind, holding his hands out. “I can help,” he offered uncertainly.

Miyala blanked, and then nodded.”Thank you,” she murmured, and with her permission he reached up, untangling the threads, his fingers brushing against her lekku and cheeks. She shivered, reflexively closing her eyes as she tilted her head to make it easier for him.

He swallowed, and broke the silence as he quietly said, “I don’t feel ready for this.” She opened her eyes to see him focused on her headband, but looking slightly bashful.

She smiled softly up at him, turning her head so he could fix the other side. “Me neither, you know. I never feel ready for undercover ops. And this will be the first time in a while I’ve done them with a partner.”

He dropped his hands back down, finished fixing her headdress, and she reached up to straighten his tie. He watched her, his eyes filled with some emotion she couldn’t name, something seeping into the space between them and making her dizzy. “I’m glad,” he admitted, “I thought I was the only one nervous.”

“It’s the mission, right? We’ll play our parts.” Miyala looked down, brushing her hands down her dress. She felt beautiful, like something delicate and lovely. It was an odd feeling. She was Jedi and thus beautiful and delicate were not something she was.

He nodded, his eyes far away, and then backed up, stepping away from her and shoving his hands into his pockets, his shoulders slouching forward as he looked stiff and awkward. She followed, wrapping her fingers around his lower bicep. “You know, if you can’t stand near me, they’ll know we’re not who we say we are.”

He went tense as she wrapped her fingers around him, and then relaxed, taking another step towards her, cautiously putting his other hand on her waist. “Right,” he said, exhaling heavily, “Newlyweds with money and Seppie connections.”

She couldn’t hide a quiet giggle at the disgruntlement on his face, and he smiled wryly at her, pulling her closer. She raised her hand up to brush against his cheek. “I miss the tattoo, you know,” she said thoughtfully. “Weird to see it hidden.” There was not even a hint of the cog on his face, and she drew her hand back.

Teasing, he said, “I do have other tattoos I can show you if you miss that one.” His thumb unconsciously rubbed against the bare skin on her waist, left uncovered by her backless dress.

She ducked her head, smiling. “Maybe later.” He laughed, low and short, and she leaned into him, before suddenly moving back to look up at him. “ _ Phwoar _ , tell me you know how to dance.”

He raised his brows at her. “You just  _ now  _ thought to ask?”

She grimaced. “Details aren’t my strong suit,” she admitted, “So no, I didn’t think to ask. I mean, if you don’t know how to dance, that’s fine, I’m sure we can improvise something-.”

He cut off, pulling her into his arms, and twirling her around as he lead them both in a simple waltz. “Lucky for you, I do know something,” he said quietly, swaying in tune with her to music neither of them could hear.

“I- clearly,” she said, fumbling for an answer. She hesitated, and then leaned into him, resting her head against his chest. They swayed slower, his hands tightening on her, but no less gentle as he took the lead. His heartbeat was slow and steady, calming her own, which was skipping beats being so near to the man she loved.

Not that he loved her back, so she savored the moment, letting him direct their movements around the room, spinning and swaying and dancing all alone.

There was tension between them, but it wasn’t born of awkwardness. Miyala couldn’t identify it, and for a moment, she nearly convinced herself it was that her feelings were returned, that there was something between them. She dismissed the thought. It wasn’t possible.

She reopened her eyes, and looked up at him. He was watching her, calm and content, and she hesitated before asking, knowing she was going to ruin the moment, “What’s the plan for getting to those data drives we need to copy?”

He looked thoughtful, and then hesitated, watching her closely. “We are playing newlyweds,” he started slowly, “So if we disappear for a bit after acting…” He trailed off, and then finished, his voice stronger, “After acting touchy and passionate, then they’ll probably just think we vanished to, ah, reacquaint ourselves.” He squirmed slightly, not meeting her eyes.

“It’s a good idea,” Miyala offered. One of her hands was still in his, and the other on his chest where it had fallen. She tapped her fingers on his chest, and added, “It’s the easiest conclusion to draw, at least. Especially if we can’t keep our hands off each other.”

He nodded, and then asked, “Boundaries?”

“Nothing under the clothes?” she suggested. She closed her eyes, and then said, “Lekku are fine.”

She reopened her eyes as he stepped away to see him giving her a worried quizzical look. “I thought that was intimate,” he said, “That’s almost overstepping, isn’t it?” He shoved his now empty hands back into his pockets, and she shuffled backwards to sit down on the edge of their bed. One bed, because they were a couple, and so they couldn’t ask for two.

“Exactly,” she said quietly, “It’s intimate, but its not sexual. It’s a gesture of trust, emotional intimacy, and it’s used to gauge how close people are. If there’s other twi’leks or people familiar with twi’leks, and you’re avoiding my lekku, then it’ll appear like something’s wrong.”

“Damn,” he murmured. He sat down next to her, and she reached out and took his hand.

“I’ve put my life in your hands before. You’re my partner. I trust you.” She loved him, but she couldn’t say that, not when he didn’t love her back. But trust: that was something they shared.

He blinked, and then looked down and away. “Miyala,” he started, and then shook his head, cutting off whatever he was going to say. Finally, he looked back at her. “Damn it,” he muttered, before adding louder, “We’re always in each orbits, but…” He shook his head again, giving her a long inscrutable look.

Finally he leaned closer to her, his fingers still interwoven with hers, raising his free hand to cradle her cheek. “I feel awkward around you,” he admitted. “This is all… something new. And unexpected,” he added.

“If it’s… I don’t know, too much,” Miyala said, “I can make something up. You don’t have to participate, I can do this on my own. I don’t want to push you into something just because we have orders.”

Jesse looked startled, dropping his fingers away from her cheek. “What? No, I’m not uncomfortable doing this with you, I just don’t want to misstep or look inexperienced.” He grimaced. “I’m not explaining right.”

Miyala had caught the gist though. “You think we look like we’re not a couple, that we’re inexperienced and awkward around each other.” She hesitated, and then looked down, before adding, quieter, “I mean… We could… There’s ways to fix that.” She fumbled over her words, internally wincing.

“Right,” he said quietly. “Miyala, look at me.” She raised her head to look up at him, and he leaned down, keeping his eyes on hers, and kissed her, soft and sweet and undeniably chaste, before pulling back, pressing the same gentle kisses to her cheeks and brow, and the tip of her nose.

She couldn’t help the giggle that rose out of her, and she smiled, looking down. He huffed, and then his own quiet laugh joined her own as he ran his fingers down her jawline, tracing the lines of her throat and cheeks. Her eyes met his own, and she challenged him, “That’s a nice kiss for a first date. You want to kiss me like I’m your wife?”

He rolled his eyes at her, although she felt a sudden burst of wistfulness in the Force before it disappeared as quickly as it came. She brushed it off. Likely it was just her own and she was misreading herself, as twisted up and anxious as she was right now. “Alright,” he said quietly, voice full of intent, and he leaned back down, kissing her harder and deeper. He nipped gently at her bottom lip,and his tongue slipped into her mouth before he dragged his lips over her cheek, teasing the sensitive spots over her earcone, before moving to her lekku.

She covered her mouth to prevent a needy whine from rising out of her throat, her other hand clenching on his suit lapels as he kissed her lekku, his hands gently running and up and down their lengths. He was careful not to leave marks, and pressed a final, much gentler kiss to her lekku before leaning back, and then laughing quietly, asked “That good enough?”

She nodded, still dazed, and his grin grew until it was undeniably smug. She shook her head at him, and without thinking, leaned up to kiss his cheek. His stubble he could never quite banish was rough on her lips, and she found she enjoyed the sensation. “Yes,” she finally admitted.

Jesse just about preened, and she grumbled, “You don’t need to be smug.”

“You were speechless,” he teased.

She sighed and then laughed, unable to hide her smile as she smoothed out the wrinkles she had left in his jacket. She swore in her head at him for looking even more attractive this way, with the dark navy suit just a bit mussed. “Maybe,” she said, looking up at him. “Whoever you find is going to be very lucky.”

“Maybe I’ve already found them,” he said quietly, watching her intently. “Not that anything’s happened.”

“Oh,” she said, feeling foolish. She blanched. “I hope you’ve told them about this mission.”

He was silent for a moment, and for a second she saw irritation in his eyes. “They know,” he said dryly.

“That’s good,” she said, feeling like she was missing the joke and opting for sincerity instead. “I’m glad you trust each other like that.” She tried to bury the hurt that he did have someone and focused on how happy she was for him instead.

He looked away from her and sighed before shaking his head and turning back to her. “I don’t think anything’s going to happen,” he said finally, repeating himself. There was something forlorn in his eyes, and she ached for him. Weren’t they a pair, both wishing for someone they couldn’t have? She brushed it off. He'd clearly already given up. And so had she.

She stood up, holding her hands out, and pulled him up with her. She gave him a sad smile, and then headed towards the door. He caught her arm and pulled her back. “Miyala,” he started, and then shook his head, “Nalah, I’m not… I’m just a regular trooper. I’ve been lucky to survive, lucky to become an ARC. It doesn’t feel right that I’m here, at some fancy party. I should be on the front lines with my brothers.”

She sighed, and stepped back towards him. “I know. It’s not easy. This place is… opulent. It’s everything we’re not used to. It feels wrong. But... we’re here to protect your brothers. It’s just not a normal battlefield.”

He grimaced. “I know that, but it still doesn’t feel right.” He hesitated, reaching out for her again, his hand wrapping around her wrist. He looked frustrated, like he was trying to find the words for something, something he needed to tell her, but he gave it up. “I just can’t believe I’m here. With you.”

Miyala took another step closer, looking up at him. “I don’t have any answers for you,” she said honestly. “My only suggestion is to channel that disbelief into your cover.”

He studied her and then looked away, setting his shoulders before looking back. “What, act like I’m amazed I’m here with you?” He scoffed, and looked away, and she heard him mumble, “I am.”

Damn it, she wished she could help him feel less out of place, but all she could do was reach out and squeeze his arm in a silent reassurance. “Hey,” she said quietly, “You’re a good partner, you know that right? There’s no one else I want watching my back.”

“Now you’re just being nice,” he grumbled, swallowing down his unease. His eyes were unreadable, and he gestured towards the door. “Let’s go be newlyweds then.”

Force, she wished.


	2. Chapter 2

Jesse pushed open the heavy doors to the ballroom, and Miyala grinned up at him as she slipped under his arm and into the ballroom. The smug victory in her eyes and the flush on her face were from their successful theft of Separatist data, but the onlookers only saw a pair of newlyweds trying to be subtle about having snuck away.

Her dress was slightly out of place, and he tugged her into an alcove to quickly pull it back into place. Miyala trusted him without a second thought to do so, watching the ballroom instead. Once again, Jesse had to swallow the wish that this mission was real. To have her sway in his arms, twirling through dances, and beaming up at him while the mantra  _ not real _ screamed at him was a new sort of agony he hadn’t anticipated.

He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, and she turned back around. She must have caught some indication of his thoughts, and her gaze turned worried and questioning. Jesse shook his head at her, forestalling any questions, and she raised her hands to smooth out his jacket. Her hands were gentle: there were bruises hiding underneath where the security droid had tackled him.

He raised one of his hands to cover her own, holding it over his heart, and squeezed gently. How he wished he could pretend she was truly his wife, and they had snuck off to a corner, unable to hold themselves back from each other.

Miyala’s blue eyes almost glowed in the soft golden light permeating the ballroom, but it didn’t hide the sudden burst of affection and wistfulness and longing in her eyes. Jesse swallowed hard, and then she pulled away to grab a flute of champagne from a passing waiter, letting him swallow and regroup.

She felt the same longing.

He’d seen it. A few seconds where she wasn’t hiding herself like she always did, no masks, no crowd around them, and he was able to see the emotion in her eyes. He’d wondered. Lingering glances in the Occlus, and her soft smiles that only he seemed to earn.

He watched her get distracted by conversation with a wroonian woman, and he leaned against a pillar, content to wait for her to finish her conversation. She hadn’t said anything. She hadn’t pursued anything. And he’d been in love with her for a few months now. Neither of them had pushed any boundaries.

Jesse knew why he hadn’t. She was still a Jedi. She was technically his superior, even if she refused to order him around and they acted as partners. She was bound to a code that forbade romantic attachments. And he hadn’t been sure Miyala had feelings for him: she was a woman used to hiding her thoughts and feelings, and aside from the occasional slip ups that led him to believe there was a chance, she’d been professional.

Jesse was fully aware he’d been less subtle, though. She had to have known.

Jesse was so lost in his thoughts he nearly missed her looking back at him. The wroonian woman had moved off, and Miyala was looking back at him with a mix of wistfulness and sadness and adoration, and he inhaled sharply. She wiped the look from her face within seconds, and was back to being perfectly pleasant and happy, but it didn’t change how clear the look in her eyes had screamed  _ I wish _ .

He straightened up, and moved towards her, holding his hand out. She took it without hesitation and then let him pull her to the dance floor. He put his other hand on her waist, tugging her into a gentle waltz along to the woodwinds and strings.

Her dress flared out as she twirled, the gold filigree along her shoulders and her headdress catching the light. She looked ethereal. He didn’t know how long they danced, only knowing that it wasn’t long enough that he held her in his arms. 

Eventually he couldn’t resist the urge to kiss her, and he leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of one of her lekku. She shivered in response, her eyes closing and then reopening to give him a look of trusting bliss.

Hells, he loved her. He wanted to see looks like that from her all the time.  He leaned down to kiss her again, teasingly kissing the tip of her nose, and she giggled, dipping her head down to try and hide her blushing.

He was starting to have to consider the idea that she simply… didn’t know. That she hadn’t picked up on his feelings. He didn’t want to confront her, force a conflict between her feelings and the Code she was bound by. That being said, if she didn’t know, she was truly, well,  _ oblivious _ .

His shoulders shook as he tried to contain a laugh. Force help her.

She pursed her lips, looking suspicious and amused all at once. “What’s so funny?”

Jesse shook his head, and replied, “It’s nothing.” He dropped her hand to raise his to gently cup her cheek, and she leaned into his touch, her eyes closing. “Just happy.” He leaned back down, kissing her brow, and she opened her eyes, smiling.

He pulled her off the dance floor, and into a corner. He couldn’t quite stop himself, and he pulled her closer, kissing her deeper. He could taste the champagne she’d been drinking, and he deepened the kiss. He might have felt like he was pushing the boundaries they’d set, but she returned the kiss hungrily, her hands clutching at his jacket, trying to pull him closer.

He pulled back, both of them oblivious to the onlookers, caught in each other’s orbits. Her lips chased his, Miyala stepping up on the tips of his toes to reach better before she let him go. She searched his gaze, insecurity filling her eyes as she looked for a sign she’d overstepped, that she’d erred in continuing the kiss.

She hadn’t: he wanted everything she could give him. But now wasn’t the time for that discussion, so he just wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her into a reassuring embrace. She snuggled deeper into his arms, and his tightened his grip on her, knowing he’d have to let go in a dozen different ways at the end of the mission.


	3. Chapter 3

Miyala couldn’t quite stop a yawn, trying in vain to cover her mouth. Jesse’s snort of amusement told her she failed to keep her exhaustion quiet, but he pulled her into his arms, letting her lean into his chest. “Long night?”

That was one word for it. She’d been nonstop keeping herself attuned to the Force, watching for enemies and suspicion and keeping them less likely to be noticed. And on top of that, she was pretending to be in love with Jesse for her cover while also pretending she herself wasn’t head over heels for her partner. She couldn’t say any of that though, so she settled for a plaintive, “I’m cold.”

“Well, we can’t have that can we?” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and Goddess, but she wished this was real. He wrapped his suit jacket around her shoulders, covering up her bare skin, and holding her close to him. “The gala’s not over yet, Nalah.”

There was the reminder. She held back a flinch at her cover’s name. “I know,” she said quietly. “I’m ready for it to be over though.” She snuggled closer into him, seeking respite from the colder drafts of the ballroom.

He pushed his feet up against hers, and she stepped up onto the top of his feet, letting him sway her around to the music floating through the ballroom. “Do you need to go back?” he asked quietly.

She yawned again, her muscles trembling slightly. “I’ll be fine for a while longer,” she promised.

“If you’re sure,” he replied. His thumbs rubbed circles over her back and shoulder where she was keeping the jacket secure on her shoulders, and she slumped into him even more, her eyes closing. 

“It’s not real” was the mantra inside her mind, but she tucked the feeling of what it was like to be wrapped up in his arms deep into her mind.

Jesse startled her out of her spiraling thoughts. “You’re falling asleep in my arms. You sure you don’t need to go back?” There was a hint of laughter throughout his tone, and she realized he was almost comfortable like this, as opposed to his previous anxiety to the mission.

“You won’t let me fall,” she replied, still unfocused on the world around her. She didn’t catch the words as they slipped out of her mouth, and Jesse tensed as they registered

He went still, pausing his weaving back and forth to the music. “No,” he said eventually, “I’ve got you. You won’t fall.” His hand tightened on her as the other lifted from her shoulders to run down her lekku. “I’ve got you,” he repeated, speaking so softly she thought she might have made it up.

A soft chortle came from nearby, and Miyala opened her eyes to spot an elderly Zeltron lady watching them with an indulgent look on her face. She tottered over, and Miyala hid her sudden jealous disgruntlement that the elderly woman with her back bent was still taller than her. 

The old woman laughed again, reaching out to pat Miyala’s shoulder. There was a knowing look in her eyes, and Miyala swallowed her sudden unease. The old woman was a Force user.

“It’s good to see young folks in love, spending time with each other. Everyone’s always rushing about these days, no time for one another.” She rested her hands on her cane, staring at both of them with a beaming smile on her face.

“I… Thank you?” Miyala tried. She took a step back from Jesse so she could face the elderly woman, reaching up to keep the jacket draped over her shoulders.

The woman reached out and patted her cheek. “You’re a sweet girl. You really do mean well. I know these things,” she added slyly, “I’m a grandmother. Always keeping an eye on the younglings.”

Miyala scrunched her nose up, trying to figure out how to reply, but she couldn’t help a fond smile. The old woman seemed genuinely friendly. Jesse gave her an amused look, and then looked startled when the old woman turned to him.

“You’re a clever young man. You have a strong heart. Strong enough to deal with this one,” the old lady finished, jerking her head at Miyala.

Miyala’s jaw dropped indignantly, and she burst out with, “Hey!” Jesse started laughing next to her, and then leaned over to press a kiss to her temple, and she subsided. She looked up at him, and saw fondness reflected in his eyes, and the remnants of her indignance disappeared.

“A good man,” the grandmother said fondly. “It’s been a while since I saw a love like yours she said.” She reached out again to pat them both on their arms, and Miyala smiled shyly back at her. She was glad their cover was convincing.

“That’s why I married her,” Jesse said, wrapping an arms around her shoulders. His eyes stayed on Miyala, and she felt herself blushing under his steady gaze. She leaned into him, letting a grin cross her face.

Goddess, she ached with how much she loved him. 

The old lady chortled, and then waved her hands at them. “There’s going to be a speaker, you know. If you don’t want to get caught listening to him drone on and on, you should get going. Head back to your rooms. Treat each other right.” She winked at them, and tottered off.

Miyala let out a nervous giggle. “Did she just…” She trailed off, bewildered.

Jesse shook his head, snorting. “I think she did. Good advice though. I don’t want to listen to a speech.” There were still other mingling around them, so his grin turned just a shade too mischievous, and Jesse added, “Not when I’ve got you in my arms, Nalah.”

She beamed up at him, and stood up to kiss his cheek. “You’re sweet,” she said quietly. She wasn’t going to pretend the use of her cover’s name didn’t hurt. Of course it hurt. This whole evening had been an exquisite sort of pain, getting everything she wanted and knowing none of it was real.

Something of her thoughts must have seeped back into her face, and his eyes narrowed for half a second. “You alright?”

She shook her head. “I’m fine. Just tired.” Without the distraction of the old Zeltron, her weariness was seeping back into her bones, and she let out another yawn, not bothering to hide it this time.

Jesse nodded, still looking pensive, and then tugged on her shoulders, gently directing her out of the massive ballroom. With every step closer to the doors, she felt more and more aware of the datachips hidden in her dress. By the time she was able to open them, she felt as if every eye in the ballroom was pulled towards her and the stolen files.

She blew out a breath as the doors closed behind them, which turned into another yawn, and she staggered slightly. The ground disappeared from below her, and she squeaked before realizing Jesse had picked her up. The other people in the hall, most heading back to their own rooms, gave the pair of them fond glances.

Miyala curled into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and shoulders as he carried her towards their room, moving much quicker than she had been. “Good thing you’re small,” he murmured dryly, elbowing a door open.

She hummed in acknowledgement, her eyes sliding shut. She could vaguely hear a door being jiggled open, and then he leaned down, setting her down on the bed. Her eyes opened a crack, enough to see him sit down on the bed next to her. 

He watched her with an undeniably soft look on his face, and Miyala struggled through her confusion as he gently reached over, removing her headdress, his hands smoothing over the skin on her lekku and ear cones where the headdress had been irritating her. Jesse’s touch was soothing and gentle, and her eyes closed again as he reached for the other half of the headdress. “You going to fall asleep in this dress?”

“I might,” she murmured, dragging covers closer to her. Now that she was in bed, she was losing the fight to her exhaustion and she struggled to reopen her eyes. “I couldn’t have done this without you, you know. You’re a good partner.”

He leaned down to kiss her cheek, and then replied, “You’d have been fine without me.”

She briefly wondered why he was still pretending and why he kissed her cheek. The mission was over: they were back to being partners. She pushed it away. “No,” she tried to argue, “I’ve gotten used to you having my back. I wouldn’t know what to do without you.” Miyala hesitated, and then pushed herself up, leaning on her side to look at him while she admitted, “And I enjoyed spending the evening with you.”

“It was a nice night,” he agreed. He leaned back down, and kissed her brow. “Get some sleep. We can talk more in the morning.”

Miyala nodded, settling back into the pillow, and tugging more covers to herself. His quiet murmur, “Hog,” was the last thing she heard before sleep claimed her.

She shot up, suddenly, feeling like she’d barely slept at all, but the light of the red moons was turning the room various shades of reds and pinks. She glared at the clock, which merrily showed 0237 on it, and then turned her head back to Jesse.

He snored softly, flopped on his stomach, with one arm over her. She smiled to herself as she watched him, her mind swirling. The zeltron lady had treated them like they were both in love. She should have been able to sense the deception, sense that Jesse didn’t love her. Zeltrons were empaths after all.

But… she hadn’t. She hadn’t looked at either of them like they were faking the affection in their eyes and the tenderness in their touches. Miyala knew she wasn’t entirely faking it, but… She had assumed Jesse was.

It wasn’t possible she was the one he loved. She swallowed hard, staring at him. He wasn’t in love with her, it wasn’t possible.

Maybe it was.


End file.
